Always With You
by letsbehappy
Summary: The calm before the storm is over; it's raining and pouring salty tears and her shrieks are as deafening as thunder. The therapist's son has never seen such a broken girl. Troy&Gabriella.
1. Promise

_"Shh, Gabriella, you'll be okay."_

That's what he tells her.

Over and over and over again.

Because if he says it enough, maybe she'll finally realize he's right and she'll stop hurting and crying all the time.

He whispers it, so delicately, in her ear and she hopes it's really true.

Because it hurts to cry and she cries when it hurts.

_"Shh, Gabriella, you'll be okay."_

That's what they tell her.

Over and over and over again.

Because they're worried friends and frantic parents and pitying therapists who don't know what else to do.

Sometimes she wishes they'd stop. Because she was brought up a good girl, told not to lie. And that's all they did nowadays. Lies lies and more lies flowed from their tired, tired mouths since their tired, tired minds didn't want to see her so utterly broken.

Yet she couldn't be anything _but_ broken when she didn't have his smiles and his kisses and his caring persona and his ability to make her laugh and his sheepish look when she caught him staring and his warmth as they sat together on her hammock and his arm always protectively wrapped around her and his honey brown hair she loved to run her hands through and his breath-taking blue blue eyes to gaze into and the sweetness of his voice when he told her he loved her _oh so much_ and the glow he had when she told him she loved him back.

------

_"Hey Gabriella, how was your day today?"_

"Fine. Nothing special. I missed you."

_"I'm always right here."_

"But I can't talk to you during classes. I'm just glad the day is over. I'm so sick of school." Her empty book bag is thrown carelessly on the floor and she lets herself fall backwards towards the comfort of her bed.

_"What went wrong today?"_

"Same as usual. Taylor and Sharpay are being so annoying. I can talk to them while I'm in class so why can't I just have time with you out of class?"

_"They're your friends; they care about you, but they don't know you at all."_

"I know! They don't know how important you are to me, because if they did, they're leave us alone."

A motherly voice sends a jolt of surprise through Gabriella. "Gabi, Taylor and Sharpay are here to see you!"

"Bring your wallet, we're going shopping!" The blond hollers with fake excitement masking her worry.

"I don't want to go!"

Two identical concerned faces appear in her doorway.

"Please, please come, Gabriella," one pleads.

_"Make them go away."_

The angry brunette snaps, "Leave. Us. Alone."

"Us? Please don't do this again."

_"Look, they're pretending to care."_

"Do what?"

"You've got to get out of this house. It's been two weeks." Taylor informs her as if she doesn't already know.

_"Don't leave me. You've had the whole day with them."_

"I spent all of my day at school, where I saw you guys. Let us have some time to ourselves."

_"That's it. Tell them off. Make them understand."_

"Gabriella..."

"Gabriella, stop all of this 'us' bullshit now because you're scaring they crap out of us! And _that_ 'us' refers to your parents and your friends - the people who are still alive! I don't know why you act like spending hours with your ghost of a dead boyfriend is so enlightening!" Sharpay has learned her bluntness from the best.

_"You know I'm still here with you, whether they believe it or not."_

"_Get out_! Get out of my room!"

The calm before the storm is over; it's raining and pouring salty tears and her shrieks are as deafening as thunder.

She screams into her pillow, digging her throbbing head into the soft, innocent fabric.

_"Shh, Gabriella, you'll be okay."_

-----

**AN:** Incase you didn't get it, the italics in quotation marks are said by another person.


	2. Outburst

"Don't worry so much, son. It's only a first day of school."

"I'm not worrying, dad."

"Then stop shaking your leg so much. You're going to make a hole in my car."

"Fine. I know this is so elementary school kid of me, but what if I don't make friends?"

"Troy, just be yourself. You'll feel uncomfortable if you don't and if anything, it'll make you less likely to - "

"Don't go into therapist mode. I'm not one of your patients."

The older Bolton loosens his hands on the driving wheel and chuckles.

"Dad, watch out!"

Screeching tires cause a raven-haired eighteen year old girl to whip her head around as she crosses the street. Her frail figure dodges the oncoming truck just in time, but the shock knocks her to the ground.

Troy stumbles out of the car to check on the unfortunate pedestrian.

"Are you alright miss?"

_"Shh, Gabriella, you'll be okay."_

"Y-yeah," her traumatized voice replies.

The boy helps her up and she's never been so furious since the funeral.

Because no one's allowed to have breath-taking blue blue eyes and honey brown hair that makes her swoon like that except for her late boyfriend.

"Gabriella Montez?"

"Dr. Bolton?" Her tone is just as incredulous.

"What? You guys know each other?"

"I met her at the grocery store last week. Gabriella, this is my son, Troy." The doctor knows that all patient information doesn't leave his room.

"Hi there." He offers her a comforting grin which she takes but doesn't return. That left him confused. He was being himself, what was he doing wrong that made the pretty girl's eyes look so broken?

_"What are you doing with that guy, Gabriella? You know you're mine."_

"I should go. Don't want to be late for school," she says.

"East High isn't that far. That's where you're headed, isn't it, Gabriella? It's Troy's first day there so maybe you guys would like to walk together?"

Dark brown, angered eyes send the therapist a glare he's all too familiar with.

"I'm up for that," states the nervous boy while he scratches his neck with one hand.

_"Don't go. Leave him."_

"Uh, actually, Troy should go on ahead. I have to head back because I forgot an assignment at home." It does register in her head that her excuse was more pathetic than she thought.

Knowing exactly what rejection feels like, Troy nods his head understandingly. "Okay, well, I'll see you around then." He spreads his fingers out and waves.

"Yeah. Bye." And she trots off.

He turns to his disappointed son. "You'll make friends."

"What if all of East High hates new kids?"

"Don't let her discourage you. There are plenty of other students you could befriend." The conversation continues as the Boltons get in the car and buckle up again.

"This was such a bad idea, coming back. I should have just stayed at boarding school."

"Being a pessimist never got me anywhere."

"I just got turned down by an East High student, dad. What if everyone's like her and they don't accept new people?"

If everyone were like Gabriella Montez, Jack thinks, his schedule would be booked with appointments for the next ten years.

-----

"Welcome to East High!"

Troy smiles gratefully at the peppy cheerleader whose name happens to be Martha.

"Thanks. I'm sure I'll like it here."

She bats her eyelashes and leans closer to him. "I'm sure you will," she agrees in a sing-song voice.

He coughs and uses it as an excuse to move away form her.

A warning bell echoes through the decorated hallways and they both move to their respective homerooms.

As he enters his, a moving coat rack adorning several vibrant scarves heads towards him. He learns this ornate object is actually his teacher, Ms. Darbus.

"Good morning, good morning, Troy Bolton. Welcome welcome." Throw in another set of repetitions and she could be cast as the goose from Charlotte's Web.

"Hi."

"Have a seat! Have a seat. Sit anywhere you'd like." She dismisses him with a flick of her hand.

He dodges colourful hats, out-of-control afros, stray basketballs and a flock of trigonometry text books to reach an empty desk which plops himself in.

The intimidated new kid surveys the class. But he doesn't get far because an uncombed head of curls bounds into the room. It's Gabriella and he can recognise her from the beautiful features he'll never forget and the purple grey bags under her eyes.

After apologizing to Ms. Darbus she crosses the mayhem that is her fellow peers to arrive at the edge of Troy Bolton's desk.

_"He's taken your spot."_

"You can't sit there," she tells him, almost growling.

"Why not?"

"It's my seat." He doesn't want to make her look more upset than she seems so being the gentleman he is, he moves one seat over.

But that only makes her temper rise higher.

_"Now he has the nerve to steal my place."_

"You can't sit there either!" Gabriella cries out.

Her distress causes a blond and an African American to focus on them.

"There's no where else!"

"The floor's open!"

_"Don't give up. Show him who's stronger."_

"There are two empty desks and two of us. It's perfect, just let me sit _somewhere_. Why do you need two spots anyway?!" She sounds so immature and selfish that he can't help but raise his voice.

Gabriella's hysterical and that's got him more bewildered than anything.

"What's going on here?" Ms. Darbus storms to the back of her class, looking very annoyed with her stiff arms crossed.

"She's not letting me sit anywhere for no reason." Troy calmly explains, but it comes out a little harsher than expected.

"All I ask is that you leave these two desks alone."

"Miss Montez, just for today, may Mr. Bolton occupy one of these seats? I'll find him another tomorrow."

_"They're trying to replace me already."_

"No. No fucking way."

"Language, Miss Montez!"

A blond stands up. "He can have my seat, Gabriella. I'm so sick of you acting like this!" She exclaims before exiting the room.

"Miss Evans, come back!" Calls the teacher.

Gabriella slides into her desk and hangs her head so her long hair hides her face and he can no longer see her defeated expression.

Troy's not sure what just happened, but he sure as hell wants to find out. It's been so long since his public school days and he wonders if this whole scene was simply a normal part of it. He'll ask his father, the expert, when he gets home today, he thinks.

He lowers himself into the desk offered to him. He feels sorry for the blond, but maybe it would just be best if he avoided Gabriella for the time being.


	3. Red Red Red

**AN: **I kind of pictured the deceased boyfriend as Chace Crawford with, like, darker hair or something. Doesn't he look like Zac Efron a little?

-----

"Remember Gabriella from this morning, dad?"

"Was she in any of your classes?"

"Yeah, but I don't...well, she's different...like I don't think she's very normal."

Mrs. Bolton speaks up. "I don't think you should judge others like that, honey."

Jack ignores his wife. "And how'd you come to that conclusion, son?"

"She had a total outburst in homeroom over nothing and she's constantly muttering to herself." Troy forks some peas into his mouth and glances across the dinner table, waiting for his dad's response.

"Maybe she's just lonely and needs a friend to be understanding. I think you should get to know her better."

"She keeps to herself and from what I've observed, she does have friends but she's always pushing them away."

"Give her a bit of time. First impressions aren't everything." Jack advises.

-----

Sometimes she'll find herself on the bathroom floor doing nothing but talking to him for hours and hours.

Sometimes she'll tell herself she should stop, to show her mother that she's okay, to call Taylor so they can study together, to ask Sharpay about make-up advice, to do her homework, to watch a movie, to eat dinner, to clean her room, to look after herself and to _just get the hell up_.

But she doesn't listen to herself anymore.

She listens to him.

_"You don't need anyone when you have me."_

He says.

And she believes him.

-----

It's home economics and the class is cutting up vegetables for the vegetable soup they will be making.

Troy sneaks a glance in Gabriella's direction.

Except Troy's never been that sneaky and the annoyed brunette catches him. She sends him a mind-your-own-business glare and chops her carrots a little bit harder.

So the boy drops his head, focusing on his celery like he should be.

Until a whimper gets his attention. She's gripping her white, shaking hand with the other and blood seeps from the wound she's trying to cover.

_"Shh, Gabriella, you'll be okay."_

"Gabriella? Are you okay?" Troy asks.

"I'm fine," lies the obviously injured girl as she checks to see if anyone else has noticed her slip up.

But she uncovers her hand a little bit and sees red red red.

Just like that night.

_"Shh, Gabriella, you'll be okay."_

Just like that night when he reached out to grab her hand, keeping his other on the steering wheel and he squeezed it as he told her he loved her and how much he wanted to kiss her then and she laughed because she was thinking the exact same thing and she squeezed his hand back and he looked at her, admiring her for just a small small moment but all she saw was angry angry headlights and two seconds later, all she saw was red red red.

And she saw him use his last breath just for her.

_"Shh, Gabriella, you'll be okay."_

And she almost believed him.

"Gabriella?!" She's on the floor with Troy screaming her name. "Mr. Pagliarello! Gabriella's hurt herself."

They both rush to her fallen form. The teacher sweetly asks, "May I see your hand? Hm, that looks deep. Someone go get me a towel!"

Panic shoots through every inch of her body. Her eyes are half closed and rolling back. Her vision is distorted and the ringing sound won't go away.

"She's sweating."

"Is she okay?"

"What happened?"

"Should I call 9-1-1?"

"Did she do it on purpos—Ow, Taylor! What? I was just asking! Everyone says she cuts herself anywa—"

"Shut up, Chad!"

"Students, please calm down and give Miss Montez some breathing room." Mr. Pagliarello wraps her hand in the towel, applying pressure. "Miss Montez? Are you okay to stand? Do you feel nauseous? We need to get you to the office and call your parents. You're going to need stitches."

"N-no. I can't," Gabriella feebly mumbles.

"What if we helped you up? Miss McKessie, get over here. You and Troy need get her to the office."

She's lifted off the ground, sandwiched between two of her classmates who each have an arm wrapped around her waist to support her. The panic subsides a little bit.

"Slowly, Troy," warns Taylor.

"Sorry."

They get her seated in a chair in the office. The secretary calls her mother. "Mrs. Montez? Your daughter, Gabriella, had an accident today at school...she's right here...well she cut herself pretty deeply...by accident...yes I'm sure...she was a bit light-headed...she needs stitches...fifteen minutes?...okay that's fine." The phone is placed back in it's spot on the desk.

"Your mother's on her way. She said she'd be here in about fifteen minutes."

"Okay."

"One of your friends is welcome to keep you company, dear." The secretary nods towards Troy and Taylor.

The African American admits, "Oh no, I have a test next period that I won't be able to reschedule."

"It's okay, Taylor. I can stay with her."

She looks from a distant-looking Gabriella to a genuinely concerned Troy. "Alright. I'll see you tomorrow, Gabriella, okay?"

"You should go too Troy. I don't need you here."

"Are you sure?"

Hastily, she replies, "Yes. Just go away."

She can't even look his devastated face because if she does, she'll see his breath-taking blue blue eyes and honey brown hair.

And she'll be reminded that her late boyfriend had those same features. But that last time she saw him, his were covered in all that red red red.


	4. One New Message

There's only so many times a mother can see her only daughter break.

So off Gabriella goes to therapy.

"Mom, please, no. Do I have to go again?"

"Gabi, I can't stand seeing you like this anymore...I need you to be happy like you once were and this is a trained professional helping you."

_"She's paying people to make you forget me."_

"Dr. Bolton isn't helping at all!"

"He'll help you if you help him. Talk to him about the voice."

_"They won't understand you like I do."_

"It's not 'the voice'; it's my boyfriend. It's David."

"Don't you see, Gabi? It isn't normal to be talking to dead people!" They were harsh words, but Mrs. Montez has already rephrased them hundreds of times in the past two weeks.

_"You need me."_

"But I need him."

Her mother sighs. "What does he even tell you?"

"Everything I need to hear."

-----

"Good morning, Gabriella."

"Good morning, Dr. Bolton. And before you ask, no I did not cut my hand on purpose yesterday. Just ask your son. He was there."

Then the session continues, without the slightest difference from the last.

Because what they tell her is irrelevant, useless.

All she needs is him, controlling her every move.

But lately, she's not sure if she wants that anymore.

But he was her other half and without him, she'll crumble, that's what she convinces herself.

-----

Following therapy, she arrives home to enter her room and just rest on her comforting bed for a while.

The clock reads 11:30 am. Her tears swayed her mother into letting her skip school today.

_"Hello, Gabriella. Shut the door. Shut everyone out and stay with me forever."_

"I'm so miserable without you. I just wish you'd come back."

_"I can't come back, Gabriella. But you can always be with me."_

This cruel voice doesn't even sound like him anymore.

It's a twisted combination of her mother's, her friends', her therapist's and, surprisingly, Troy's. Everyone that she's been against since the accident.

So Gabriella fiddles with her answering machine, letting the undeleted messages calm her.

_"Hey, Gabi, it's David, but I'm sure you already know that. Keep Saturday night open for me, okay? So that means no meeting up with Taylor to do homework or any late shopping trips with Sharpay. Love you, bye."_

_"It's David again. I got your last message and fine, I'll give you a clue about our date. Dress nicely. We're going out to dinner. I love you."_

_"You know who it is. I hope you haven't forgotten about the night I have planned for you tomorrow, Gabi. I'll pick you up at seven. Love you forever and always. Bye."_

"One new message."

_"Gabriella? This is Troy. Troy Bolton from school...I just, uh, well I got your number from Taylor, and I wanted to call to see if you were alright...because you weren't in class today...And that's it. Okay, bye."_

_-----_

The next morning, Gabriella deviates from her usual routine to go and seek out Troy Bolton's locker.

"Hi." She timidly greets him.

"Hey, Gabriella! Are you okay? How's your hand?"

"I'm fine. Ten stitches though. I got your message yesterday."

"Oh really?" His cheeks are now tinted a light shade of pink. "I found myself wondering where you were. I guess I was worried when you weren't there."

"Why'd you do it?"

"Leave you a message?"

"Yeah. I mean, why'd you care?"

Troy looks befuddled. "Why wouldn't I?"

Gabriella shares his confused expression. She always thought her family and friends stuck by her during her difficult times because they had faith that she'd one day go back to her normal self (which she never will without him). Yet here was this stranger who seemed to look past her hostile demeanor towards him for no apparent reason.

After the bell rings, he says, "Let's go to homeroom."

They enter the classroom together when a jeer slaps her in the face.

"Run out of sharp objects to cut yourself with at home, Montez?"

_"Shh, Gabriella, you'll be okay."_

Troy defends her, "Leave her alone. It was an accident."

Ms. Darbus trots in. "Class, have a seat this instant!"

He shoots a quick glance around. No empty seats except for the one at the back beside Gabriella.

So he plants his butt on the floor.

"Mr. Bolton! What on Earth are you doing down there?" screeches the teacher.

"There was no where else."

"Excuse me? Do you lack the ability to see because there is a lovely place adjacent to Miss Montez."

"Oh my gosh, Gabriella. Just let the new kid sit in David's seat!" scoffs a random classmate.

David?

Ms. Darbus looks especially irritable today. "Mr. Bolton, you have five seconds to get into that desk."

He looks up at the silent brunette for approval.

Four seconds later, she nods at him.


	5. A Secret Almost Revealed

**At the Library:**

"Gabriella?"

"Hm?"

"May I join you?" He tentatively places his homework on the library table she's seated at.

"Okay."

He pulls out the chair beside her and sits down. "Gabriella?"

"Hm?"

"Who's David?" Perhaps his father's interest in psychology has rubbed off on him, but he wants to find the reason behind her misery.

Her hands clench into fists. Perhaps he should have inquired about this to someone else.

"He...he used to occupy the seat you took today in homeroom."

Past tense. So either this David character has moved away or died.

**-----**

**Next Period:**

Troy approaches one of his History classmates who coincidentally happens to also be in his homeroom and not oblivious to what went on that morning. "Chad?"

"Yeah, Troy?"

"Who was David?"

"Why do you want to know? Is this about Gabriella? Just stay away from her, man, she's trouble."

"But who was he?"

"Well...he was in an accident, a car crash, two weeks ago..."

An eavesdropping Martha pops up. "He and Gabriella used to go out."

"Oh." Gabriella was simply a girl who needed to heal, not trouble at all.

"You know, Troy," starts Martha, squinting at him, "he actually kind of looked like you."

-----

**That Night:**

He knocks on the door, interrupting his father's game of solitaire being played on his laptop.

"Yes, Troy?"

"Remember Gabriella?"

"Of course, did you get to know her better?"

"Sort of. I think the reason behind her bitterness is her boyfriend's car accident two weeks ago."

Dr. Bolton is caught off guard and incredulously asks, "She willingly told you that?"

"Not exactly. I asked some classmates."

"But did she talk to you about him?"

"When I asked about him, all she told me was that he wasn't there anymore."

"So he was still mentioned to you by her."

"I guess."

His dad frowns. "Son, this is very wrong of me to ask you this but..."

"What is it?" Troy's heart races. That wasn't a very good way to start a sentence.

"I need you to try and find out more about David."

"How'd you know his name?"

"Because she's one of my patients," Jack explains, "She's been seeing me for two weeks and she's already told you more than she ever talks to me. I only know about what happened since her mother told me but Gabriella refuses to talk about David. So do you think you could help me out and ask her about the night he passed away? I think there's something more to it that she needs to talk about."

"Dad..."

"I know, I know it's wrong, but we're all trying to help Gabriella here. We're all worried about her."

"And tricking her will help?"

"She needs to talk about that night. Her mother and I have both agreed it's not good for her to keep it bottled up. Trust me, she'll feel better once it's out in the open."

**-----**

**Next Day:**

He arrives early at school the next day. Being a new kid engenders more homework than usual to enable him to catch up. He find her huddled in a corner of a deserted hallway, weeping.

"Gabriella? What's wrong?"

Bony fingers sweep away the tears as she looks up at the alarmed, breath-taking blue blue eyes.

_"Shh, Gabriella, you'll be okay."_

"I...it's..."

"It's okay. You can tell me."

"It's stupid."

_"You're stupid. You're weak." _The voice keeps getting more and more maliciously cruel each day.

"No it's not. It's made you cry. You can tell me." He sits down next to her.

"You-you already know about David, right? I mean, of course you've found out because you're probably curious and confused and I'm sorry I couldn't tell you." A scratchy, weak voice tells him.

"I figured if I found out, I might be able to help you."

_"You don't deserve help. You're pathetic without me."_

"Help me do what?!" Angry at him for being one of those people who accuse her of being helpless, she scrambles to get up.

He gently pushes her back down. "I dunno...help you to be happy," He says as he wipes away a tear with his thumb, "and to stop crying."

Troy smiles.

Gabriella sighs.

"My mother deleted some of my messages last night."

"Were they important?"

She nods. "To me they were."

"Did you hear them yet? Your mother could tell you what they were if you didn't."

"I heard them...they were pretty old I guess. I've been keeping them since three weeks ago. It's stupid that I saved them, but some were about Saturday night."

"What happened Saturday night? That's the night when he...when it happened, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, that's when...and he was going to take me out for dinner. He had a whole thing planned out and surprised me with..." Her secret continued to grow and grow until it almost escapes from the bottle.

"Surprised you with...?"

Gabriella snarls, "Why do you want to know?" Narrowed eyes shoot daggers at him. Composing herself, she stands up and leaves.

**-----**

**That Night:**

"Did you find anything, son?"

"Not much. She mentioned they were on a date and she was surprised by something."

"What? What was it?"

"I don't know. She got mad that she was starting to tell me about it and left."

-----

**Therapy:**

"Please talk to me about it, Gabriella."

"I can't, Dr. Bolton."

"Does it hurt to think about him?"

"It hurts to think about the night he left me."

"Do you feel it was your fault he passed away?"

"I felt it was my fault he was sad when it happened."

"And why was he sad?"

"Because."

"How did you know?"

"I just did."

The therapist grows desperate, causing him to blurt out, "Did it have something to do about the surprise?"

Gabriella's eyes widen. "How—how'd...y-you know about that?"

It's an unnecessary question. They both know the answer.

Troy.

He didn't care about her. He only wanted to help his father.

_"You should have already known that, Gabriella. Look at what trust can do to you."_

A feeling of betrayal and anger constrict her heart.

In need of comfort, her thin hand slips into her pocket to gently rub a diamond ring she's been carrying everywhere for the past two weeks but never wears.


	6. Disclosure

**At Troy's Locker:**

"_Troy_," she hisses, arms crossed.

He stops organizing his books and holds his hands up, staring at her innocently. "What? What'd I do wrong?"

"Oh you know exactly what it is." She slams his locker door shut.

He weakly says, "Gabriella...I..."

"You fucking told him! You're his little spy aren't you? Sent to pry into my life so he can put food on your table."

"Gabriella—"

"You didn't want to help me. You don't give a shit about me."

"I know it was wrong—"

"Then why'd you do it!"

"Because we both know you need to move on from that night, Gabriella."

"_I_ know what's best for me."

"Doesn't look like it. You're hurting and everyone just wants to help." She knows he's telling the truth.

"Doesn't seem like it." She's crying, and allows Troy to put a comforting arm around her shoulders.

"Well we are. Gabriella, I'm sorry told my dad. I was desperate to do something and he seemed to know what was best for you. Please forgive me, I won't do it again."

Never has someone so patient entered her life before. "Okay. I guess it actually felt nice to tell someone."

"You can tell me anything. I promise to not say a word about it if you don't want me too."

His breath-taking blue blue eyes, that sends sparks through her body every time she looks at them, tells her one thing.

_"Shh, Gabriella, you'll be okay."_

And she believes them.

_------_

**Cafeteria:**

"Troy?"

"Yes, Gabriella? Want to sit with me?" He moves his lunch tray over and pats the seat next to him.

"Can we go somewhere quieter?"

"Like where?"

"Come with me." She holds out her hand for him to take. And he does.

Odd looks exchanged between a blond and brunette as Troy and Gabriella exit the crowded area.

"Taylor, did you see that?"

"Gabriella leaving with the new kid who she screeched at on his first day?"

"Yes, that."

"How could I have missed it?"

"I wonder where they're going."

"Hopefully some place to help her move on, Sharpay."

------

**Rooftop Garden:**

Troy follows her to a staircase leading to the roof of the school.

"Woah, I never knew this was up here," he comments on the plethora of blooming flowers and beautiful plants.

She beams proudly. "David was part of the gardening club and let me up here. It was like our secret hide out."

"What did you come here to do?"

Shrugging, she replies, "Mostly to talk when we needed somewhere peaceful to be. And we even waltzed once."

"Waltzed?"

She nods. "It was so romantic. He taught me one day, out of the blue, and said I might need to know how to dance in the near future then I laughed at him."

He gazes at her quizzically as her hand digs deep into her pocket. When she's found what she was looking for, she closes her fist, hiding it from his view.

"What's that?" She opens up her palm. The object glistens in the sunlight. "It's a ring," he states.

"It is."

"Did...David give that to you?" Her silence tells him everything. "The surprise," he says finally, "on Saturday night."

"It definitely was a shock."

"Does your mother..."

"No one knows but you and me and him."

"So he was your fiancé." Realization hits him hard.

She shakes her head and her eyes well up again. "I said no, Troy. I said it was too fast and we were too young. I loved him, but I was scared. I was so selfish, Troy. He planned out our whole night and I made him drive me home..."

"Oh, Gabriella." He rushes over to the crying girl and embraces her in a consoling hug.

"I—it was—it was my fault."

"No, it wasn't. Don't say that."

She sobs harder on to his shirt. "He said he understood and on our way back it was fine. He said we could forget the whole thing. He still loved me after I turned him down. He said everything would be okay and I believed him. Then we were hit. There was so much blood and he told me to take the ring to remember him by," she recalls, "he had the nerve to tell me that I'd be okay, and couldn't believe him, Troy."

"I think you should trust him. He seems like a smart guy who wants the best for you."

"And I was so angry when I first met you because I thought God was taunting me with the spitting image of my late boyfriend."

He rubs her back soothingly. "I can dye my hair and wear color contacts if you'd like," comes his lame attempt at a joke.

But he succeeds when she smiles. "No, it's fine. Your looks are too good to change," she admits.

"I'm glad you told me about him."

"I'm gad you listened. Could you not tell anyone else though?"

"Yes, of course. You can when you're ready."

"Thank you, Troy."

"I'm always here for you, Gabriella. And so is David. We'll always be with you."


End file.
